


the fall of the king's people

by orphan_account



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Dead Gansey, Gen, Minor Violence, Sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-20
Updated: 2016-01-20
Packaged: 2018-05-15 05:39:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5773459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>the king falls, and with him fall the people.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the fall of the king's people

Gansey’s death was one that shook everyone who had the chance to know him, and there wasn’t much of a celebration of life during the funeral, for everyone was too dazed to even cry.

Blue had felt awkward at first, standing by his family in simple, black mourning clothes. She hadn’t even had the energy to mix patterns or sew different cloth swatches together. She just bought a dress from the department store and mindlessly slid it on. 

Before everything had happened, Blue pondered about what she’d wear to the funeral. She thought she’d honor his memory and wear something fitting, something that would have made him smile. It had been easier to imagine in her mind, even though imagining it had still been difficult.

The reality was numbing. 

She stood with Ronan and Adam, her face stone as she caught sight of the closed casket. To everyone else there, she was a nameless face. Really, she almost had second thoughts about coming, but she couldn’t live with the regret of not saying a final goodbye to her true love. She had been to Noah’s funeral. She had been to the small ceremony for Persephone. She had to be there for Gansey. 

The awkward feeling melted away as she grieved. A minuscule portion of her mind wondered what the others thought. Would any of them question why she was there, how she knew the boy in the coffin? But the larger part of her couldn’t think at all.

It was a funeral. Everyone else was fixated on the casket or the floor, not concerned with the names and faces of those around them. There were enough people there, anyway, for no one to question her. Aglionby bastards left their smug grins at home, family friends placed loving hands on the shoulders of Adam and Ronan and Helen and Gansey’s parents, people Gansey met on his many adventures looked grimly at the box that held the sleeping king. Even Roger Malory was there with his dog, his old face twisted into a look of despair.

All were there to say goodbye to the amazing friend, brother, son, lover.

After what seemed like hours yet seconds, it was all over and the three living members of the Glendower Gang were back at 300 Fox Way, staring blankly at Blue’s green walls.

Since Gansey’s death, few words had been uttered by any of them.

Blue had refused to leave her room until the day before the funeral, spending her time in the warmth of her bed, thinking of how she’d rather be in the warmth of Gansey’s arms… only to be reminded that he was cold and dead and it was all her fault.

Adam no longer felt the joy of being accepted into college. He got up in the morning, went to school, wasted away at work, and came home to face another dreamless sleep. He was going through the motions, but his mind was never there. He felt sad and angry and anxious and frustrated to the point his emotions were nothing but a dull pain in his heart. Gansey was gone, and he blamed himself.

Ronan stayed with Adam, spending his sleepless nights on the floor of the apartment above St. Agnes. Returning to Monmouth wasn’t an option because the first thing he saw when he opened the door wasn’t a room of chaos or a bare, unmade bed or even the desk that Gansey sat at so many times, but the miniature, cardboard Henrietta, the project that was a product of shared insomnia, the project that Gansey had spent countless nights working on, the project that wasn’t finished and was never going to be. The first thing he saw was the stupid model of a place that didn’t feel like home anymore. Because Gansey wasn’t there. Ronan thought of all the ways he could have changed what happened. 

In Blue’s room, Ronan and Adam sat together on the bed, close enough to say _I’m here_ but leaving enough room to mourn. Blue stood at the window, staring out at the empty street. Only the chill in the room alerted them of Noah’s presence. He looked more transparent than ever, his face like a distant memory.

_This is what things had become._

Gansey was gone, and the world had come crashing down around them.

Everyone was hurt. Everyone was angry. Everyone was lost without their king.

How unfair was it, Blue contemplated, that the one boy who deserved a chance in this world, who had a pure soul and honest intentions, was the one who never got to fulfill his destiny of greatness.

All because of her and her stupid cursed lips and that damned Welsh king.

Blue’s fists curled at her sides, all those emotions whirling inside her, filling her heart until they overflowed and sent her down a warpath of rage and grief and desperation. She beat the side of her fist into the wall, her breaths now ragged and her face red. Turning on her heels rapidly, she stumbled over to her desk, knocking all her books and crafting supplies to the floor with a swipe of her arms. She kicked her foot against the bottom and tossed aside a book that somehow avoided her wrath the first time.

Adam flinched, somewhat startled to see such a reaction from Blue, the girl who advocated against acting out anger. But he sat with Noah, his eyes turned from her as he refrained from intervening. 

Blue took another step and found her reflection. Her chest was heaving from her outburst, her face puffy and her cheeks streaked with tears. She looked utterly broken, and that broke her even further. Angry with herself for letting her become this monster she saw, her fist sailed into the mirror and the surface shattered. Small pieces of her reflection– her eyes, her nose, fragments of her lips– were cast dozens of times. Her hand fell to her side again, and blood dripped off her knuckles and onto the plush carpet.

Oh, but she wasn’t done. 

This was what she was good at, this was the _only_ thing she was good at. In a family of psychics, she had no power. In a school of teenagers, she was an outcast. In a group of brave boys, she was a pathetic little girl, crying over the loss of her love. She destroyed Gansey’s life. She destroyed the hope that Noah and Adam and Ronan held. She destroyed herself. 

She couldn’t predict the future. She couldn’t dream things to life. She couldn’t even make her own future, but she could cause destruction. 

She let out a battle cry and went to punch the wall again, but before she had a chance to break her hand, someone’s fingers circled around her wrist to stop her. Her eyes met Ronan’s. He didn’t look menacing or intimidating. She didn’t have that same feeling she so often once had, that feeling that she needed to earn his favor. Behind the hints of grief, she saw empathy. Then, she felt herself being pulled into his arms.

Her entire body slumped into him, suddenly too weak to even stand on its own. Her face pressed into Ronan’s chest and her sobs echoed in the small, lonely room. 

Noah and Adam kept their eyes on the floor, and none of the other inhabitants of 300 Fox Way dared enter to console her. Instead, it was Ronan’s gentle hand that stroked her hair and it was Ronan’s soothing voice that told her to gain control until the wailing finally came to an end.

Gansey was gone.

Gansey wasn’t coming back.

_This was their reality._

**Author's Note:**

> everyone else in the fandom has been making people think sad things about Gansey's death and this story has been in my head for so long  
> my writing didn't quite do it justice,  
> but still v sad  
> sorry
> 
>  
> 
> (gansey's death will be the death of me)


End file.
